


I'll Fly Away (In the Morning)

by Hokuto



Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 08:10:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8883415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hokuto/pseuds/Hokuto
Summary: Songbird and Elizabeth.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [an_ardent_rain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_ardent_rain/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide! I hope you enjoy this small gift.

Of course, when the giant claws opened, she ran to them. Of course she curled up in the warm open palm, resting her cheek against dark, leathery skin. Of course, when the golden beak whistled to her, she sang the notes back, and soon she was teaching it her favorite song.

For after all, what lonely child has never longed for a monster of their very own?

* * *

_Dear Diary,_

_Mr. Songbird is a very shy bird even tho he is so big! He does not like to sit next to me or anything like that but always far away. I thought that maybe he is hungry becuz he is so big and he must have a very big stomack too and lots of people make friends with animals with food so I would give him some of my food even tho it is small for him. But maybe a little is good enough. I am saving my potatoes from dinner becuz I do not like them but maybe Mr. Songbird likes potatoes and if he does not I will save him something else from supper._

_Dear Diary,_

_Mr. Songbird looked at the potatoes but he did not eat them and flew away again. Some birds eat seeds but I do not eat seeds so I can't save him any. Some birds eat meat so I will save him some meat from supper but it will be hard becuz meat is messier than potatoes. I wish Mr. Songbird was not so shy now. I want to be good friends with Mr. Songbird because his singing is very nice and I can talk to him and sit in his hand again which was also very nice. I hope he likes the meat._

_Dear Diary,_

_Mr. Songbird does not like meat either!! Maybe he does eat seeds but I can't give him any seeds when I don't have any. Maybe he does not eat at all even tho he is so big and flies a lot so he must be hungry. He has to breathe through his mouth all of the time so maybe he can't eat at all which is very sad when there is so much good food like cake._

_I don't know why he is shy now but it makes me sad. I guess he might be scared that he is too big to be friends with me but that is silly!! I don't mind that he is big at all!!!_

_The next time I get cake I will save it for Mr. Songbird in case that is what he eats. I don't think birds are supposed to eat cake usually but they can eat bread and cake is a kind of bread. Also he is a special kind of bird so maybe it is fine for him to eat cake._

_Dear Diary,_

_IT WORKED!!!_

_Mr. Songbird still did not eat the cake even tho I only took one tiny bite before I saved it but he looked at it very closely and he did not fly away this time! Instead he sat down in front of me and pushed the cake back to me. I tried to push it back for him to show that I really did want him to eat it if he wanted it but I guess he did not want it becuz he pushed it back to me. Only it was somewhat squashed this time because his hand is so big and there was scarcely any icing left but it did not look dirty or anything so I ate it. Then he opened his hand again and I could sit in it and he sang a happy song and I was so glad he wasn't being shy anymore. Sitting in his hand is very nice becuz I feel warm and safe. I think it must be what being hugged is like only bigger._

_I still don't know why he was shy but it does not matter really as long as he does not mind being friends with me now. I think that we are going to be bosom friends even if he can't speak but I will tell him everything and learn what his songs mean and that will be just as good or maybe better. Having a bosom friend is going to be wonderful!!_

* * *

"Songbird, do you like books?"

At once the question seemed so foolish that Elizabeth's cheeks warmed, even before Songbird's golden head tilted curiously towards her. He chirruped, and she pressed on hastily: "I only meant, because I love books so much! You can learn so much from them, like French and geography and all sorts of things... And reading stories, I love them, too. Reading a good story is like - getting to travel all over the world, or go to a party and meet lots of interesting new people, or have thrilling adventures with old friends you can trust with your life..."

She curled her legs up under her in the velvet-covered chair and said, more quietly, "Well - I think that's what those things must be like, anyway. I don't really know, since I can't leave this tower."

Songbird crouched lower, with one brilliant green eye focused on her.

"I suppose it's hard for you to read," Elizabeth said, "since your claws are so big, and books are usually small. Poor Songbird! Nobody makes things in your size, do they? Perhaps they do outside of here, but in here everything is my size. It must be awfully difficult for you."

Songbird whistled and laid one of his fingers along the chair's arm, and Elizabeth put both of her hands over it. The armor thrummed with a pleasant warmth. "If you'd like," she said, feeling bold of a sudden, "I could read some of my books to you."

Songbird titled his head again, and Elizabeth waved her arms at the library around them. "There are all sorts of different stories here," she said, "and I could read any one you liked. Even the difficult ones, although I might not get all the words right..." Her right hand stopped over a familiar vibration in the air, and she hesitated. It wasn't that her tears were secret, exactly, but she hadn't told Songbird about them herself, not properly. And she didn't know if she wanted to tell _anyone_ yet about certain things she could use them for...

But Songbird was so _kind_ , and he had to be awfully lonely, to spend so much time with her in her cage instead of flying free. She dug her fingers into the tear and said, "If you don't like any of the books here, I - I can find new ones, different ones for you."

She pulled the tear open and Songbird reared up, his eyes flashing red; but it was only a small tear, through which she could see another bookshelf with bindings and titles she didn't recognize, and after a moment the lights cooled to amber. He bent his neck and craned his head at a funny angle to peer through the tear with first one eye, then the other, and he chirped curiously.

"See? It isn't dangerous - at least, not mostly, and I try to be awfully careful with them now so I don't cause any trouble," Elizabeth said. "And I can see all sorts of things through them, and bring bits and bobs over sometimes, so if you see any books you want, just point them out..." She ducked her head, shy again. "You - you don't think it's too strange that I can do it, Songbird, do you? I've never read about anyone else who could do it, so I suppose I must be a freak, but - you're not afraid of me for it, are you?"

Songbird inspected the tear again, and then he whistled softly and nudged at her hand with his beak. A great wave of relief crashed over her, and she flung her arms around the beak and said eagerly, "I'm so glad - I'm so glad it doesn't bother you! What would you like me to read for you?"

Songbird settled into a lazy crouch on the floor next to her chair with his forearms crossed and shrugged his mighty armored shoulders, leaving the choice to her.

"All right," Elizabeth said, "then I'll pick one of _my_ favorites," and she slid out of the chair. Oh, where had she left it... She darted across the library to a half-empty shelf in disarray and sorted through its well-worn occupants, then dashed to another chair piled high with errant and much-read volumes. There, there it was, and she pulled it from an unsteady stack and ran back to Songbird. "This," she said, "is a very, very good book of stories - I've read it lots of times already but I never get tired of it. There are such funny illustrations, too, I'll show them to you when we get to one."

Songbird chirped an agreement, and as she climbed back into the chair and opened the book to her favorite story, he rested his great head on his forearms, the lights of his eyes flickering to their usual contented green.

"Hear and attend and listen," Elizabeth began, enunciating very carefully, "for this befell and be- behappened and became and was, O my Best Beloved, when the Tame animals were wild. The Dog was wild, and the Horse was wild, and the Cow was wild, and the Sheep was wild, and the Pig was wild - as wild as wild could be - and they walked in the Wet Wild Woods by their wild lones. But the wildest of all the wild animals was the Cat..."

* * *

_SAMPLE E-12_

_A single sheet of lined paper, ragged on one side as if torn from a notebook. Lightly charred, disrupting much of the written text. Approximate date June 1906. Transcript as follows:_

Dear Diary,

Today st[.]rted like m[..]t days, but th[..] is [..] be expect[.]d in this pl[.]ce. Nothing ev[..] [...]nge[.] It mus[.] [.]e the d[..]lest, lonel[..]st place in [...] [.]orld. Even Songbi[..] [.]eems v. listl[...] & doesn[..] care to d[.] [..]ything but lie about. [.] [.]an't blam[.] [.]im [..]t am fe[...]ng v. disc[....]ged. I mig[..] nee[...]

[......................................................................................................................................................]

[......................................................................................................................................................]

[.......................................................................................................]ld exp[..]ime[.......................]

[..................................................................................]ight wor[.], but wh[..] if [..........................]

thin[.] I sh[.......................................................................]ind, but if Son[..................................]

can't [..]st ask[............................................]scape, [..........................]ur[.]ly he'l[.] help!

So[.....] I'll [..]k h[..] soo[.].

_< Press button>_

_The sheet of paper dissolves entirely into grey ash._

* * *

In an idle moment, between the flip from one page to the next, it came to Elizabeth that they would make a pretty picture to an observer, the two of them: the lordly bulk of Songbird sprawled in gleaming gilded splendor across the floor; the little monster, safely caged in her tower, curled up in her favorite chair while clear morning sunlight poured warmly through the windows. How absurdly domestic they must seem to an outside eye - how cozy and secure in their barred sanctum! Who could have imagined such a happy scene for either of them?

The notion made her smile, and Songbird gave a mild protesting chirp at the interruption to their story. Elizabeth reached over to rest her hand on the top of his head. "Sorry," she said, "I only thought of something silly and got distracted. Where were we - ah, right! This is one of the _best_ parts..."

As she picked up the thread of the story again, her mind was not on the words as much as it should have been. Instead it danced through all the glorious plans she had written out before burning them for secrecy, visions of Paris and gardens and rivers and bakeries and the libraries of the world spread before her.

 _One day soon_ , she thought, stroking Songbird's head. _One day soon I'll be free..._

_... and oh, Songbird, how I hope you'll come with me!_


End file.
